


Safe Haven

by Plas95



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plas95/pseuds/Plas95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious young man named Marcel appears in the small North Carolina town of Southport, his sudden arrival raises questions about his past. Beautiful yet self-effacing, Marcel seems determined to avoid forming personal ties until a series of events draws him into two reluctant relationships: one with his plainspoken neighbor, James; and the other with Louis, a widowed store owner with two young children. Despite his reservations, Marcel slowly begins to relax his guard, putting down roots in the community and becoming increasingly attached to Louis and his family.</p>
<p>But even as Marcel begins to fall in love, he struggles with the dark secret that still haunts and terrifies him... a past that set him on a fearful journey across the country, to the oasis of Southport. With Stan's support, Marcel eventually realizes that he must choose between a life of transient safety and one of the riskier rewards... and that in the darkest hour, love is the only true safe haven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know that I have three books already on here that are far from being finished or touched, really. But I thought that it would be interesting to have a Larry version of Nicholas Sparks's Safe Haven. I do not own that book, I own a copy of it but nothing else. And I am not copyrighting anything. I am giving Mr. Sparks his credit now and I will in each and every chapter of this story. This is, like I said, a Larry version of Safe Haven.

Cover by me. :)

 

 

As Marcel wound his way among the tables, a breeze from the Atlantic rippled through his slightly gelled, quiffed hair. He was in slacks and the restaurant's gray t shirt saying  _Liam's; Try Our Fish Just for the Halibut_ on the front in black letters, it was the 'shirt of the day' at the restaurant, and a white long sleeve underneath, his large black framed glasses and a pair of black converses. He brought the four plates, three in his left hand on a serving tray and the fourth in his right hand, to four men in polo shirts; the closest one caught his eye and smiled up at Marcel. Though the man in polo tried to act as though he was just a friendly guy, but Marcel knew that he was watching him as he walked away.

"They are here for some new movie... From Wilmington, or so I've heard." Zayn, Marcel's coworker had told the green eyed boy when he arrived to the waiter/waitress area. Marcel just nodded and leaned against the waiter/waitress station's counter.

 

~.~

 

After retrieving a pitcher of sweet tea, Marcel refilled the four men's glasses then returned to the waiter/waitress station. He stole a glance at the view. It was late April, the temperature hovering just right, although he was fairly hot in his long sleeve shirt, and the blue skies stretched to the horizon. Beyond Marcel, the Intracoastal was calm despite the breeze and seemed to mirror the color of the sky. A dozen seagulls perched on the railing, waiting to dart beneath the tables if someone dropped a scrap of food. Liam Payne, the owner, hated those seagulls. He called them 'rats-with-wings' and he's already patrolled the railing twice with a wooden plunger to try and scare them off.

Zayn leaned towards Marcel and chuckled. "I'm more worried about that plunger than I am the seagulls." He confessed, pointing at Liam, who was chasing the poor creatures with the plunger once again. Marcel just chuckled, but said nothing.

 

~.~ 

 

Marcel had started another pot of sweet tea and was wiping down the station as he felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Liam's nineteen year old daughter, Sophia who worked part time as the restaurant's hostess. "Marcel, can you take another table?" Sophia asked when Marcel turned around to look at her.

Marcel then scanned around the tables and nodded. "Sure." He told the teen, smiling at her. Sophia nodded and walked down the stairs.

From nearby tables, Marcel could hear some small bits and pieces of some conversations, conversations about fishing, the weather, and family and friends. At the table in the corner, Marcel saw two people close their menus, so he hustled over to them and took their order but didn't linger at the table to try and make small talk, but he was efficient and polite and none of the customers seemed to mind. 

Marcel had been working at the restaurant since early March. Liam had hired him on a cold, sunny afternoon when the sky was the color of robins' eggs. He officially started the Monday after that and it took everything in the green eyed man to not cry in front of his new boss. You see, at the time, Marcel was flat broke and hadn't eaten in days.

After refilling waters and teas and sodas, Marcel went to the kitchen where Ricky, one of the cooks who was a year or two older than Marcel and was blond and lanky and still lived with his parents, winked at him like he always did. Two days ago, Ricky had asked Marcel out, but he rejected him, telling the man that he wasn't ready to date, nor was he wanting to date, anyone at the restaurant, or anyone at all. But Marcel did have a feeling that the man would attempt to get him to agree to a date, but he hoped that his intentions about that were completely and totally wrong.

"I don't think it's gonna slow down today." Ricky commented. "Every time we think we're getting caught up, we get slammed again." 

"It's a beautiful day today." Marcel told Ricky with a small shrug. 

Ricky sighed and looked at Marcel briefly before turning his attention back to the stove. "Yeah, but why are people here? On a day like today, they should be fishing... Or at the beach, which is where I'm going when my shift is up if you'd like to join me." He told Marcel, sending a wink over to the younger man. 

Marcel just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm good." He simply told the cook.

"Well, can I drive you home after our shifts are up?" Ricky asked, he was really wanting some alone time with the tall, green eyed boy, he's offered to take Marcel home every day for nearly two weeks.

"Thanks, but no. I don't live far from here." Marcel told the man, again. He said the same thing each and every time. 

"It's no problem," Ricky persisted. "I'd be glad to do it."

"Walking is good for me." Marcel told him as he handed the cook the ticket and Ricky just pinned it up on the wheel and then located one of Marcel's orders that was ready. He carried the order back to his section and dropped it off at a table.

 

~.~

 

Liam's was a local institution, a restaurant that had been in business for nearly thirty years, and in the time that Marcel had worked there, he had come to recognize some regular and he would always look around for some fresh, new faces. He saw some couples flirting, some couple ignoring each other, families, but no one out of the ordinary and no one new. No one seemed out of place and no one was asking for him, but his hands still began to shake in fear of someone or something; he even slept with the light on in fear.

Marcel couldn't even dress or look like he used to because of how scared he was. He couldn't keep his hair the way it was and he had to wear his hair differently and he couldn't even wear the clothes that he loved. But it was all for a reason. Moving to this small town, renting a small cottage, changing his appearance, getting this job, it was all for a reason and it was all to keep him safe. 

During Marcel's move to Southport, he had lost a tremendous amount of weight and that wasn't good. He could feel his ribs through his shirt and he's only eaten rice, beans and oatmeal during his stay, unless someone from work gave him some different food. And he had dark circles around his eyes that didn't seem to want to go away no matter how much he wanted them to.

"Those guys over there are checking you out, Marcel." Zayn, who was pointing to the four guys who were here to look for a spot to shoot the movie, told Marcel, snapping the taller of the two out of his thoughts. "Especially the brown haired guy, the cute, young one, not the old one." Zayn chuckled.

"Oh." Marcel said, not even looking up from the fresh pot of tea that he was making. He was sure that anything he said to Zayn would soon get passed around, so Marcel didn't usually talk much to him.

"What? You don't think he's cute?!" Zayn whispered, gasping slightly. 

"I didn't notice." Marcel simply told the tanned man, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"How can you not notice someone so cute?" Zayn asked in disbelief, everyone in town knew that Zayn, Ricky and Marcel were all gay and no one seemed to mind. Some guys even flirted with Marcel. 

"Don't know." Marcel shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. 

Like Ricky, Zayn was a couple years younger than Marcel, maybe twenty five or so. He was black haired, tanned, tattooed, brown eyed and beautiful. He really was. But he was taken by some guy named Steve who made deliveries for the home improvement store on the other side of town. And like almost everyone else who was in the restaurant, Zayn had grown up in Southport and he described the small town as being a paradise for children, families, and the elderly, but the most dismal place on earth for single people. But at least once a week, Zayn would tell Marcel that he was planning to move to Wilmington, which had bars and clubs and a lot more shopping. Zayn also seemed to know anything and everything about anyone and everyone.  _Gossip._ Marcel sometimes thought,  _was Zayn's real profession._

"I heard that Ricky had asked you out again." Zayn started, changing the subject and bringing Marcel back from his thoughts. "And you said 'no' again." He told Marcel as he fixed himself a small glass of iced sweet tea, with lemon.

"I don't date people at work." Marcel told his nosy coworker as he organized the silverware trays, pretending as if he was absorbed in what he was doing.

"We could double date...” Zayn told Marcel as he took a drink of his tea out of the straw and raised an eyebrow at the green eyed male. "Ricky and Steve go fishing together." He told Marcel, but Marcel really didn't care and he was really beginning to wonder if Ricky had asked Zayn to do this or if this was actually Zayn's idea. Maybe both. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." Marcel told Zayn as he looked up at the tattooed man for a moment then went back to the silverware trays.

"And why not?" Zayn asked as he put his glass of tea down and crossed his tattoo covered arms across his muscular chest and raised an eyebrow.

Marcel sighed and looked up at his coworker once again. "I had a bad experience when I dated a coworker... And since then, I've made it a rule to never date one again." He explained, although he didn't believe that he needed to explain why he didn't want to date someone from work. It was his life, his decisions. 

Zayn rolled his eyes before he went to one of his tables that were in need of a refill of Coca-Cola. Marcel left the waiter/waitress station and went to his own tables. He gave the checks to the people who were finished, or almost finished, with their meals, and cleared empty tables and plates. He tried his best to keep busy, efficient and invisible. He always did that. When his tables were cleaned and no one needed him, Marcel went back to the waiter/waitress station and made sure that it was completely spotless. Cleaning made the day go by quicker.

That day, like most days, Marcel worked the lunch and dinner shifts and he watched the sky fade, like always. He thought that it was so beautiful when the sky turned from blue to gray to orange and yellow and he absolutely loved watching it. And at the sunset, the water sparkled and sailboats heeled in the breeze and the needles of the pine trees seemed to shimmer. 

 

~.~

 

As soon as the sun dropped below the horizon, Liam turned the propane has heaters on and the coils began to glow like jack-o'-lanterns and Eleanor and Big Dave replaced Zayn and Ricky in the evening. Eleanor was a high school senior who giggled a lot and Big Dave had been cooking the dinners at Liam's for nearly twenty years. He was married with two kids, had a tattoo of, what was supposed to be, a scorpion on his right forearm and he weighed close to three hundred pounds. He was a big guy, unlike Eleanor, who weighed maybe a hundred and twenty pounds on a bad day.

 

~.~

 

At nine, when it began to finally clear out, Marcel cleaned and closed up the waiter/waitress station and helped the sixteen year old busboys, Stan and Brandon, carry plates back to the dishwasher while his final tables finished up.

At one of his tables, he saw a young couple, two boys who both had rings on their fingers to indicate that they were newlyweds, who were holding hands from across the table. They were happy and that made Marcel feel a sense of deja vu. He had been like them once, a long, long time ago but that happiness lasted just for a moment. Or that’s how long Marcel thought it was because Marcel soon learned that his happiness was just an illusion. Marcel turned away from the happy, blissful couple, wishing that his memories would be erased and gone from his mind forever and never return.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the story Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks.

 

The next morning, Marcel stepped onto the porch with a cup of coffee in his hands. The floor boards creaked beneath his sock covered feet and he leaned against the railing. Lilies sprouted amid the wild grass in what was once a flower bed. Marcel raised the cup up, savoring the aroma as he took a sip of the steaming hot liquid.

Marcel liked it here in Southport. The town was different from Boston or Philadelphia or Atlantic City, with their endless sounds of traffic and people rushing along the sidewalks. This was the first time in his entire life that he had ever had a place to call his own. The cottage Marcel had rented wasn't much, but it was his and out of the way and that was more than enough. It was one of two identical structures located at the end of a gravel lane, former hunting cabins with wooden-plank walls, nestled against the grove of oak and pine trees at the edge of a forest that stretched to the coast.

The living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all small. The bedroom didn't even have a closet in it. But the cottage came fully furnished and it even had a rocking chair on the porch. And the rent was extremely cheap. Although the place was old, it was only dusty. It looked nice on the outside, considering its age and all. The landlord was even nice enough to offer Marcel the supplies to fix it up if he wanted to. So, ever since the day Marcel had moved in, he was either on all fours, scrubbing the floors, or he was standing on a chair cleaning the walls and the ceiling. He had scrubbed his bedroom floors until they sparkled, he cleaned the ceilings, he cleaned the windows, and he scrubbed the rust and grim off of the appliances, but it still wasn't completely clean. He had time though. He had plenty of time to clean the house up and get it just right for his liking.

Now that he had most of the hard work behind him, he liked to sit outside and just look at the scenery or read a book that he had gotten from the library. Aside from drinking coffee, cleaning and working, Marcel read and he read a lot. He didn't own a radio, television, a phone, a car nor did he have a microwave, so reading was how he entertained himself in his free time. He didn't own many things. Most of his things could be packed in a single duffle bag.

Marcel was twenty-seven, a former curly headed, contact wearing brunette who wore skinny jeans and old band t shirts and bandanas, his tattoos showed freely and he had his right ear pierced and almost always wore a cross ear ring and bracelets and rings on his hand, but he had no real friends. He had moved to Southport with almost nothing and months later, he still had very little. He saved half of his tips from the restaurant and every night he folded the money into a coffee can had kept hidden in the crawl space beneath the porch. He kept the money for emergencies and would rather go hungry than touch it. Simply the knowledge that it was there made him breathe easier because the past was always around him and might return at any time. His past prowled the world in search for him and he knew that it was growing angrier at every passing moment. And that scared Marcel so badly.

"Good morning!" A voice called out, disrupting Marcel from his thoughts. "You must be Marcel!"

Marcel turned to his right and saw a woman, who looked like she was in her early thirties, on the sagging porch of the cottage next door. The woman had bleach blond hair that was styled like she had just woken up. The woman was wearing a tank top, sunglasses and a pair of tight blue jeans, but not as tight as Marcel used to wear his pants. And Marcel wore them skin tight. The woman next door had a rug in her hands and it looked like he was debating if she wanted to shake the dirt off of it or not. The woman finally just tossed the rug to the side and made her way over to Marcel. The woman moved with energy and ease, like someone would if they were to exercise daily.

"Simon Cowell told me that we'd be neighbors." The woman told Marcel as she made her way closer. Simon Cowell was their landlord.

"I didn't realize someone was moving in." Marcel told his neighbor, whose name he still didn't know.

"I didn't think he did either. He about fell out of his chair when I said I'd take the place." The unnamed woman told Marcel, chuckling slightly. "Names Jamie." The man, Jamie, told Marcel as she stuck her hand out for Marcel to shake.

"Hi." Marcel greeted as he shook Jamie's hand.

"Can you believe the weather? It's gorgeous!" Jamie exclaimed. Marcel agreed as he shifted from one foot to the other.

"When did you move in?" Marcel asked as he looked over at his new neighbor.

"Yesterday afternoon. And then, joy of joys, I spent the entire time sneezing! I think Cowell collected as much dust as possible and put it in my place!" Jamie chuckled.

Marcel nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "Mine was the same way." He told his neighbor.

"Really?" Jamie asked, cocking an eyebrow. "It doesn't look like it. Sorry, I couldn't help but sneak a glance through your window while I was in my kitchen. Your place looks so bright and cheery!" She exclaimed. "I, on the other hand, have rented a dusty, spider-filled dungeon." Jamie chuckled, shaking her head.

Marcel looked over to the woman and took another sip of his coffee. "Mr. Cowell let me paint it." He explained.

Jamie nodded and chuckled as she looked out into the forested area. "I bet. As long as Mr. Cowell doesn't have to do it. I'll bet he lets me paint as well. He'll get a nice and clean cottage to rent out and I get to do all of the work." Jamie told Marcel with a wry grin. She then cleared her throat and looked at her neighbor. "So, when did you move here?" She asked, trying to be neighborly.

Marcel sat his coffee down on the railing of the porch before crossing his arms across his chest. "About two months ago." He answered.

"I'm not sure if I can make it that long." Jamie told Marcel as she laughed lightly once again. "If I keep sneezing like I have been, my head just might fall right off of my body!" She laughed loudly. Marcel just nodded once again, chuckling softly at his neighbor. "How do you like Southport? It's a different world, don't you think?" Jamie asked as she took his sunglasses off, bringing them up so she could look to see exactly where was dirty so he could clean them off. And when Jamie did that, Marcel couldn't help but notice that she had pretty blue eyes.

"What do you mean?" Marcel asked.

"You don't sound like you're from around here is all." Jamie told Marcel as he cleaned his sunglasses on his tank top and put them back on her face. "My guess is that you're from up north some?" She suggested.

After a moment of thinking, Marcel nodded.

"That's what I thought!" Jamie exclaimed, her smile only widening. "And Southport takes a while to get used to. I mean, I've been always loved it and I'm impartial to small towns." Jamie stated.

"You're from here?" Marcel asked, looking at Jamie.

"I grew up here, went away, and ended up coming back." Jamie told Marcel laughing softly. "The oldest story in the book, right? Besides, you can't find a dusty old place like that anywhere." She winked as he pointed back at his cottage.

Marcel smiled and for a moment, it was silent between the two neighbors. Jamie seemed content to stand in front of Marcel, waiting for him to make the next move. Marcel just took a sip of his coffee and looked around the forest for a bit. Then he remembered something,  _manners_. "Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made it?" He asked, hoping that he wouldn't seem as rude now.

Jamie took her sunglasses off of her face and placed them on his head. "You know, I actually would, I love coffee." She told Marcel, smiling widely as Marcel invited her inside of his own little cottage. "My entire kitchen is in boxes still and my car is at the shop. Do you have any idea what it's like without any caffeine?!" Jamir dramatically asked Marcel as they walked into the kitchen area.

"I have an idea." Marcel told Jamie as he reached in his cabinet for a clean coffee mug, he made sure to keep his long sleeve shirt covering his arms and torso as he did so.

"Well, I really love coffee, I'm addicted to it, as some would say. And it's hard to unpack on days when I haven't had any coffee." Jamie explained as she took the cup filled with fresh coffee from her neighbor, thanking him as she did so. "I just really hate unpacking. It's so miserable. Trying to find out what goes where and where things don't go and then things get in the way, it's just horrible." She complained before she blew the hot coffee and took a sip. "This is really good by the way." She complemented.

"At least most of the furniture came with your place, well I'm assuming it did since mine did. So that's a good thing," Marcel told his neighbor as he sat in front of her on the old wooden chair. "And thanks, I don't have anything for it, sorry about that." Marcel apologized, speaking about the coffee. Marcel had no sugar or creamer or anything for the hot drink. Jamie just waved her hand and took another sip of her coffee.

"So, Cowell said that you work at Liam's?" Jamie asked, wanting to have his facts right because it would be embarrassing if she didn't.

Marcel nodded and sat his coffee mug down. "Yeah, I'm a waiter." He explained.

"Does Big Dave still work there?" Jamie asked as she took another sip of the hot liquid. Marcel nodded and smiled a small smile. "He's been there since before I was in high school! Does he still make names up for everyone?" Jamie asked, smiling widely at the memory of her old friend.

Marcel nodded and laughed. "Oh, yes! He calls me 'Marcy-Marce'!" He told Jamie, laughing at the thought of Big Dave and his ridiculous nick names.

"Zayn? Does he still work there? And does he still talk about the 'cute' customers?" Jamie asked, raising her eyebrows up a little bit.

Marcel rolled his eyes and smiled even wider as he nodded. "Every single shift." He told Jamie.

Jamie smiled and shook her head, "How about Ricky? Is he still hitting on the new waiters?" The older woman asked, and when Marcel nodded once again, she let out a loud laugh and sat her coffee mug on the table. "That place never changes!" She exclaimed.

Marcel rose an eyebrow and looked curiously at his neighbor. "Did you work there?" He asked.

"No," Jamie simply told Marcel. "But this is a small town and Liam's is an institution. Besides, the longer you live here, the more you'll understand that there is no such thing as secrets in this place. Everyone knows everything and some people like... let's say Zayn, have raised gossip to an art form. It used to drive me completely and totally insane! Of course, half of the people in Southport are the same way." Jamie sighed and took a drink of his coffee. "There's not much to do here except for gossip." Jamie shrugged.

"But you came back..." Marcel told Jamie as he rose her eyebrow and finished off her cup of coffee.

Jamie shrugged and looked around. "Yeah, but what can I say? Maybe I like crazy!" Jamie chuckled and took a drink of her coffee. James looked at the window and motioned to it. "Even after all of these years I've lived here, I didn't even know that these two places existed." She told Marcel before drinking the rest of her coffee.

"Mr. Cowell said that these used to be hunting cottages on some plantation before they were rented out." Marcel explained. He hoped that he was of some sort of help to the Southport native.

Jamie laughed and nodded before looking back to Marcel. "I just can't believe that you moved out here." She told Marcel.

Marcel raised his left eyebrow and looked at Jamie. "You did as well." Marcel pointed out.

"Yeah, but the only reason I considered it was because I knew I wouldn't; be the only man at the end of the gravel road in the middle of nowhere. It'd kind of isolated." Jamie explained.

 _Which is why I rented it,_ Marcel thought to himself. "It's not so bad, I'm used to it by now," Marcel told Jamie.

"I hope that I get used to it." Jamie sighed and leaned back in her seat. "So what brought you to Southport? I'm sure it wasn't the exciting career potential at Liam's. Do you have any family around here?" Jamie asked. Jamie was curious on why Marcel had moved here.

"No." Was all Marcel had said. He didn't like talking about it and simple, short answers was what he was going to give.

"Girlfriend? Or boyfriend?" Jamie asked.

Marcel's face whitened a bit as he shook his head. "No, no boyfriend." He told Jamie.

Jamie furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. "So you just... came up here?" She asked.

"Yes." Short answer. That's all that Marcel was going to give to questions like these.

"Why on earth would you do that?" She asked, laughing lightly.

And like what Marcel did with Liam and Ricky and Zayn and Sophia and Eleanor and Big Dave, he stayed silent. Marcel knew that they were all just asking out of pure curiosity, but he didn't want anyone to know why he had moved there. He didn't want his past to find him in any way, shape or form.

"I just wanted a place to start over." Marcel finally answered Jamie's question. And it's not like he lied. He just did tell the whole truth. He wasn't going to say that he was running away from his past and hoping and praying that his past wouldn't find him.

"Makes sense." Jamie told Marcel as she stood up and fixed herself another cup of coffee. It surprised Marcel when Jamie asked no follow up question. "Sometimes starting over is exactly what a person needs. And I think that it's admirable. A lot of people don't have the courage it takes to do something like that." She told the slightly younger, yet taller, male.

"You think so?" Marcel asked as he went to make himself another cup of coffee as well.

"I know so." Jamie told Marcel as she turned to look at Marcel. "So, what's your agenda for the day? While I'm whining and complaining and unpacking until my hands are raw." She laughed, but waited for Marcel to get a drink of his coffee before answering.

"I have to work, but other than that, nothing. I need to run to the store and get some things... other than that, nothing." Marcel explained. He turned and walked back to his seat and sat down, but turned to look at his neighbor.

"Are you going to Fisher's or are you going into town?" Jamie asked as she drank some of her coffee.

"Just Fisher's." Marcel responded as he took a drink of his coffee as well.

"Have you met the owner there? The guy with the chestnut colored hair that always has it up styled in a mess quaff?" Jamie asked.

Marcel nodded and looked over at his coffee cup. "Once or twice." He told his neighbor.

Jamie finished her second cup of coffee and stood up straight. She walked over to the sink and placed the cup in side of it before sighing. "All right." She sighed, sounding less than enthusiastic. "Enough procrastinating. If I don't start now, I'll never start and I'll never finish. Wish me luck." She told Marcel as he winked and made her way to the front door, Marcel following behind him.

"Good luck!" Marcel told Jamie as Jamie waved.

"It was nice meeting you, Marcel." Jamie told Marcel before walking out the door. Marcel shut the door behind his neighbor and walked back to the kitchen.

Marcel was just happy that his neighbor was a woman. Zayn was the only male he could be around without being scared to death. Zayn, Ricky, Big Dave and Liam really. Just those four. And only because Zayn just gossips. Ricky just flirts. Big Dave is close to being like a father to everyone, and Liam, Liam's just Liam. 

~.~

Marcel watched from his kitchen window and saw Jamie shaking that same rug out from earlier. Jamie seemed friendly and all, but Marcel just wasn't sure if he was ready for a friendship or even a neighbor. Although it might be nice to have someone to visit with every now and then. But then again, Marcel was used to being alone.

Then again, Marcel knew that living in a small town meant that his self-imposed isolation wouldn't be lasting forever. He knew that he had to work and walk around town, and when he did walk around town, some of the customers recognized him and tried to talk to him. And Marcel hated to admit it, but he enjoyed his little chat that he had with his bottle blonde neighbor. For some reason, Marcel had a feeling that there was more about Jamie than met the eye. Jamie seemed trustworthy. But Marcel did believe that someone was trustworthy once before and that didn't turn out all that well.

As he stood at the sink, he washed the coffee mugs and other dishes that were placed in the sink. He dried the dishes and put them up in their respectful places. The act of putting two coffee cups up away after drinking coffee felt so familiar. And for an instant, Marcel felt engulfed by the past that he left behind. The green eyed boy's hands began to tremble and he had to hold onto them, pressing them together, to get them to stop. Just two months ago, there had been very little Marcel could do to stop the shaking.

Marcel was so happy that he wasn't getting as many anxiety attacks as he was when he first moved to Southport, but that also meant that he was getting comfortable in this town and that scared Marcel. If he was getting comfortable, then he might let his guard down and that couldn't happen. Marcel could not let that happen.

Marcel was grateful that he had ended up in Southport though. The town was small and a historic town with maybe a few thousand people in it. It was located at the mouth of the Cape Fear River, right where it met the Intracoastal. It was a place with sidewalks and shade trees and flowers. Marcel was able to watch kids play ball and watch people walk around. It was over all, a very nice place to live and Marcel felt  _safe_ and that's what he needed. He needed  _safe_.

Soon, Marcel was putting his shoes on again and fixing his long sleeve shirt that hid his multiple tattoos and walked out of the cottage. He needed so many things and he had so little amounts of money to get what he needed. Marcel had nearly nothing in his cottage. But this place, this small town of Southport, this cottage that was out in the middle of nowhere, this place was  _home._ It felt like  _home_.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is a version of Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks. Thanks for reading and please vote and comment and subscribe and bookmark! I love you! <3 and this isn't really edited.. :$


	3. 3A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I changed some things in the second chapter, so if you haven’t read it yet, I’d advise that you do so.   
> This is a version of Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks.   
> Oh, and I will try my best to have an update on Tuesday, Thursday or Friday of every week.

His hair had turned gray when he was in his early twenties, prompting some good natured ribbing from his friends. It wasn’t a slow change from his chestnut colored hair to his gray hair. It was rather fast. In a year’s time, his hair had gone from its original chestnut color to gray/silver. No one knew why it was like this, no one else in his family’s hair had turned gray so quickly and as far as his family knew; Louis Tomlinson was an anomaly on both sides of the family.  
Strangely, it didn’t bother him that much, but he did dye it regularly to his natural color of chestnut brown. In the army, he sometimes suspected that it had aided in his advancement. He’d been with the Criminal Investigation Division, or CID for short, stationed in Germany and Georgia, and had spent a few years investigating military crimes, everything from soldiers going AWOL, to burglary, domestic abuse, rape, and even murder. He had been promoted regularly, retiring as a major at the mere age of thirty with two children already born.   
After punching his ticket and ending his career with the military, he moved to Southport, his wife’s hometown, with his wife and kids. His immediate thought was to go into the law enforcement, but his father-in-law had offered to sell him the family business.   
The business was an old-fashioned country store, with white clapboard siding, blue shutters, a sloped roof and a beach out front. The living quarters were on the second floor and it was very convenient for Louis, his wife and their two young children. There was a large magnolia tree that shaded one side of the building and an old oak tree that stood in front of the building. The parking lot was half asphalt and half gravel and it was hardly ever empty. Louis’s father-in-law had started the business before Jamie-Lynn was born when there wasn’t anything but farmland surrounding them. Bit Louis’s father-in-law prided himself on understanding people and that he wanted to stock whatever the people of Southport would need, all of which led to a cluttered organization to the place. Louis felt the same as his father-in-law did and he kept the place fairly the same. There were still six or so aisles of groceries and toiletries, refrigerator cases in the back were overflowing with sodas, water, beer, milk, and wine, everything that needed to be refrigerated really. And as in every convenience store, there was a rack of snacks and chips near the front. But that is where the similarities of Louis’s way of having the store and his father-in-law’s. Louis had and assortment of fishing gear, bait, and a grill manned by Niall Horan, who’d worked on Wall Street once and decided to move to Southport in search of a simpler life. The grill offered burgers, sandwiches, hot dogs, as well as a place to sit and talk. There was also a nice assortment of DVDs to buy and rent and all sorts of ammunition, rain jackets and umbrellas, and a few best-selling and classic novels. The store sold spark plugs, fan belts, and gas cans, and Louis was able to make duplicates of keys with a machine in the back room. He also had three gasoline pumps and another pump on the dock for any boats that needed to fill up.  
Keeping up with inventory wasn’t hard for Louis to do. Like his father-in-law, Louis had a pretty good sense of what people needed as soon as they walked in the store and he noticed and remembered what some people didn’t need, a trait that had helped him while he was working in the CID. Nowadays, he was endlessly tinkering with the items that he stocked in attempt to keep up with the changing taste of his customers.   
Never in his life had he imagined doing something like this, but it had been a good decision, if only it allowed him to keep a good eye on his children. Josh was in school, but Kristen didn’t start until the upcoming fall so she spent her time with her father at the store. He had a small play area behind the register for his young daughter to play and she seemed happy about that. She also helped Louis with the register, she knew how to work it and make change and she reached the register by stepping on a small step stool. Louis always enjoyed the look on strangers’ faces when they saw her beginning to ring their purchases up.   
Still, it wasn’t an ideal childhood for her, even if she didn’t know anything different, and if Louis was being honest with himself, it took almost all of the thirty-three year old’s energy just to keep up with the kids and with the store. He had to make Josh’s lunches for school, drop Josh off at school, order his supplies for the store, and serve the customers. It was all a lot to do and he had to do all of that, plus more, while he tried to keep his five year old daughter entertained. The evenings were even busier. When he wasn’t at the store and working, he was making dinner, playing with Kristen and her dolls with her, flying kites with Josh and Kristen, playing video games with Josh and helping Josh with his school work and clean the house and make sure that the store was up to code. It was a lot to do for a single father. And Louis honestly didn’t even know what it was like to relax anymore.  
After the kids were in bed and fast asleep, Louis still didn’t know how to relax. He always had something to do or he spent his evenings alone. Though he was known to almost everyone in town, and some out of town, he had only a few real friends. The couples that he and Jamie-Lynn would associate with slowly drifted away and part of that was his own fault. Owning and working at the store and raising the kids took up nearly all of his time. But he also felt like he made the others uncomfortable, like he was reminding them that life was unpredictable and scary and that things could go bad in an instant.  
It was a wearying and sometimes isolating lifestyle, but he remained focused of Josh and Kristen, who both had nightmares of their mother gone. When they would wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing their little hearts out, he would hold them close in his arms and whisper who everything was going to be okay until they would fall back asleep. When Jamie-Lynn had first past, he took the kids to a counselor, but that didn’t seem to help much because they still had the nightmares. The counselor told Louis that the kids would get better as the years progressed, and they did. But it hurt Louis terribly knowing that the two young children were slowly forgetting the memories of their mother. They were so young when she died, Kristen was three and Josh was almost six. It had only been two years since Louis had lost his wife, but it felt longer than that. He missed having his wife by his side and in his arms and he missed her voice, her laughter, her smile, just her in general. But he had to stay strong and continue telling stories to their kids so they wouldn’t forget her completely.  
Jamie-Lynn loved taking photos and Louis had them all over the house, he told the kids the stories and emotions behind each and every photograph. And above the headboard in Louis’s room was a photo that Louis had professionally taken of Jamie-Lynn, despite her protesting, during the first year of their marriage before Louis went back to working with the army. The picture was beautiful, like always. Jamie-Lynn was and always will be a beautiful woman. She was a strong-willed woman who had captured Louis’s heart. And sometimes at night, Louis would stare at her picture and talk to it like he would if she was still alive. But, sadly, Josh and Kristen barely even noticed the beautiful photograph of their mother.   
Louis thought of his wife often. He missed her company and her companionship that they had once shared and the friendship that had been the bed rock of their marriage. And to be completely honest, Louis wanted that again. He wanted someone who he could love and someone who could love him. And he wanted a friend who he could call his own and marry. Louis was lonely and he hated to admit that. Louis wanted those things again, but he just couldn’t do it. The memory of Jamie-Lynn’s death and the aftermath was all too fresh. Even though it was nearly two years later, it was just too soon to even try and find love or companionships again. To Louis, if he met someone else and moved on from his wife’s death, it would be like he was forgetting her and that was not something that the single father of two wanted to do.  
A few months back, Louis took the kids to an aquarium. It was fun to see the kids looking at the different types of fish, but when another man, with no ring and two kids of his own, came up beside Louis and the two adults talked while the kids looked at the fish, Louis felt that. He felt that spark of attraction that reminded him of what he once had. The man, who was very attractive, laughed at Louis’s stupid jokes just like Jamie-Lynn used to. And that made Louis feel so happy. But that only lasted a little while. Their conversation came to an end and the two separate families went their separate ways. But as Louis and his children left, he saw the man once more. Louis was so tempted to go to the man’s car and ask for his name and number, but he didn’t and a moment later, the man was driving out of the parking lot to be never seen by Louis again.   
That night, Louis waited and waited for the wave of self-reproach and guilt to come. But it didn’t. He didn’t feel guilty, instead he felt okay and that meant that he was finally beginning to heal. That didn’t mean that he was going to go looking for a guy or a girl to be with, no. That just meant that he was finally ready to move on when he found the right person who would bring joy back into his life and love his kids and who his kids loved. Louis knew that finding that person in this small town didn’t have the best ratio. Everyone in the town were either too young, married, retired or just didn’t want the package deal. And Louis didn’t want someone who didn’t love his kids as much as he did. It might be lonely and in need of companionship, but his kids come before he did, or anyone else for that matter. They had been through way too much and they were his main priority.  
Still… there was one possibility though, he supposed. Another man or woman, man in this case, could be interested in him, though he knew almost nothing about the man, aside from the fact that he was single and that he had been to the store twice a week since early March. The first time Louis saw the man, he was pale and gaunt, almost desperately thin. Ordinarily, Louis wouldn’t have given the man a second glance because he figured that the tall, pale man was just passing through and was in need of a drink or refill on gasoline and Louis didn’t think that he would ever see the man again. But the man wanted nothing of that sort, no soda or gasoline. Instead, he went to the grocery aisles with his head down, almost as if he didn’t want to be seen. Unfortunately for him, that didn’t work. He was too attractive to be left unnoticed. The man looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe, with brown curly hair styled up in a quaff, too much hair product was used to keep it the way it was but it still looked really good. The man had dimples that could be seen when he bit his lip and looked at the food items and he had wide, emerald green eyes that gave him a fragile and innocent appearance.   
At the register, Louis realized that up close, the man was even more attractive and he smiled, just briefly, showing even more dimples that Louis really, really enjoyed. On the counter, the man placed nothing but coffee, rice, oatmeal, pasta, peanut butter, and toiletries. Louis figured that starting, or trying to start, a conversation with the man would make him uncomfortable, so Louis just rang him up in silence. As he did, he heard the man’s voice for the first time.  
“Do you have any dry beans?” Was what he asked Louis.   
“I’m sorry, sir.” Louis apologized. “I don’t normally keep those in stock.” He explained.  
As Louis bagged the man’s items, he noticed the younger man staring out of the window and absently chewing on his lower lip. And for some strange reason, Louis had a feeling that the man was about to cry.  
Louis cleared his throat. “I can order them if you need them regularly.” He told the man.   
“I don’t want to bother you.” Was what Louis received as an answer, but the man’s voice was really quiet, almost a whisper.   
The younger man paid in small bills before taking his bags and leaving the store. It surprised Louis when he saw the younger man continuing to walk out of the parking lot and down the road and it was only then that he realized that the man didn’t drive, which only added to his curiosity.   
The following week, Louis had three different types of dry beans stocked on the shelves. He had lima beans, pinto beans and kidney beans for the next time the man was to arrive. And the next time the man came into the store, Louis made a point of mentioning that the beans could be found on the bottom shelf in the corner, near the rice. Bringing the three bags of beans to the register, the man asked Louis if there were any onions. Louis pointed to a small bag in a bushel basket near the door, but the young man had shaken his head, whispering on how he only needed one. The man smiled a small hesitant and apologetic smile. The younger man’s hands were shaking terribly as he counted out the bills to pay, and again, he left on foot.  
Since then, the beans were always in stock, there was a single onion available, and in the weeks that followed, the young man had come regularly. Though he was still quiet, the man seemed less fragile and less nervous as the time went on. The dark circles under his eyes finally faded some and he picked up some color and some weight – not much, but enough to soften his delicate and beautiful features. His voice became stronger as well. And thought it didn’t signal any interest in Louis, the man would hold his gaze a little bit longer before he would turn away. They hadn’t proceeded much farther than Did you find everything that you need? followed by the Yes I did, thank you. type of conversation, but instead of fleeing from the store like a terrified and hunted deer, the man would walk out normally. And sometimes the man would wonder around the aisles of the store or talk to Kristen when they were alone. It was the first time that Louis had seen the man’s defenses drop. His easy demeanor and open expression spoke of an affection for children, and Louis’s first thought was that he’d glimpsed the younger man once and he was certain that he could once more, given the circumstances were good. Even Kristen had noticed that something wasn’t right with this man because after the man had left, Kristen told Louis that she had made a new friend named Mr. Marcel.  
But that didn’t mean that Marcel was comfortable with Louis. The previous week, after Marcel had chatted easily with Kristen, Louis saw him reading the back covers of the novels he kept in stock. He didn’t buy any of the titles, and when Louis asked Marcel, as he was checking out, if he had any favorite authors, Louis saw a flash of nervousness in the man’s eyes. Louis then realized that he probably shouldn’t have let it slip that he was watching the younger man. He quickly told Marcel that it wasn’t important and a soft ‘never mind’. On the man’s way out the door, however, he paused for a brief moment, his bags tucked in his arms so he would lose the things he had just bought. Marcel half turned in Louis’s direction and mumbled, I like Dickens. With that, he walked out of the store and down the road.  
Louis thought about that man’s with greater frequency since then, but they were vague thoughts, edged with mystery and colored by the unknown that he wanted to get to know her better. Not that Louis knew how to go about it. Aside from the year he dated Jamie-Lynn, he had never been good at dating. In college, between swimming and his classes, he had little time to go out he just had flings that began and ended in one place; the bedroom. During the military, he had thrown himself into his career and Jamie-Lynn, who he met at a college swim meet during his senior year. He worked long hours and spent the free time that he had with Jamie-Lynn. Sometimes when Louis was thinking back on his life, he barely recognized the man, the player he once was, and he would think about Jamie-Lynn and how she changed his life. Yes, it was all hard. And yes, Louis was lonely. Yes, Louis missed his wife, and though he never told a single sole, there were moments where he could swear up and down that he still felt Jamie-Lynn’s presence nearby, watching over him and their beautiful children to make sure that everything was alright and that they were all okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is part ‘A’ to the 3rd chapter! Part ‘B’ will be posted tomorrow or Saturday. Thank you for reading this! You are amazing!


	4. 3B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a version of Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks.  
> I will try my best to have an update on Tuesday, Thursday or Friday of every week.  
> Sorry for the wait. I was snowed in and wasn't able to write last week.

Because of the amazing weather, the store was busier than usual for a Sunday. By the time that Louis unlocked the door at seven that morning, there were already three boats tied up at the dock, waiting for the gas pumps to be turned on. As was typical, while paying for the gas, the boat owners loaded up on snacks, drinks and bags of ice to keep in their boats. Niall, who was working on the grill as always, hadn't had a break since he had his apron tied around his waist and the tables were crowded with people eating sausage biscuits and cheese burgers. There were even people who asked for tips about the stock market.

Usually, Louis worked at the register until noon, he would let Danielle come in and work then let her take over the cash register. Like Niall, Danielle was the kind of employee who made running the store much easier for Louis. Danielle worked at the courthouse until she retired and she ‘came with the store’ so to speak. She was in her seventies and wasn’t even showing any signs of slowing down at any time soon. Danielle was married to a wonderful man named Adam, he had died a few years ago and her kids were all gone, moved away when they started families of their own, so she really didn’t have a family close by, but she did view the customers and coworkers as family.

Danielle was needed in the store. She helped when she knew that Louis needed to be with his kids and she helped organize and chit chat with customers. And she didn’t get all bent out of shape when she was asked to work on Sundays. Danielle would tell Louis to go as soon as she stepped behind the register, almost like a boss rather than an employee. Danielle was also his babysitter for whenever he had to go out of town to do something and that wasn’t common, he only went out alone twice since Jamie-Lynn had passed and that was just to meet an old buddy from the army. Louis had come to view that Danielle was one of the best things that has ever happened in his life and she was always there when Louis needed her the most.

As Louis waited for Danielle’s arrival, he walked through the store and checked the shelves. Louis liked his computer system that he had for the inventory, but he knew that the rows of numbers didn’t always tell the whole story. Sometimes, Louis felt as if he had a better sense of scanning the shelves to see what had sold the day before. A successful store required turning inventory over as frequently as possible, and that meant that he had to offer items that no other store offered, such as homemade jams, powdered ribs from ‘secret recipes’, flavored beef and pork, and canned fruits and vegetables.

Even more important that the item’s sale volume was  _when_  something was sold. Like bacon was sold mostly on weekdays while pork chops were sold mostly on weekends. With that, Louis had been able to keep more of both when needed the most and sales rose. Sales didn’t rise much, but it added up and helped keep Louis to keep his small business afloat when the chain stores were putting most local shops out.

As Louis looked at the shelves, he wondered about what he and the kids could do together in the afternoon and he decided that they could go for a bike ride. Jamie-Lynn loved nothing more than to strap the kids into the bike stroller and ride them around town. But a bike ride wouldn’t take up the entire evening, so maybe they should chill at the park afterwards?

Louis looked around for a second to see if anyone was coming into the store before going to check out back for Josh. Josh was out on the deck, fishing. He was in range of the camera, which was a rule, so Louis was okay. Josh was safe and that is what mattered. Kristen was in her usual place, at the corner table that was behind the register, sitting down and playing with her American Girl doll. She was changing the doll’s clothing again, which was what she did a lot. Every time she finished, she would ask her daddy how he thought the doll looked, and it was impossible for Louis to say anything negative about it.

 

~.~

 

As Louis straightened up the condiments, he heard the doorbell jingle. He raised his head and looked over the aisle and saw Marcel enter the store.

“Hey Mister Marcel!” Kristen greeted the younger man as she came out from behind the register. “How do you think my doll looks?”

From where Louis was standing, he could barely see his little girl’s head above the counter, but he could see what she was holding. Kristen had her doll, Vanessa or Rebecca, something like that. Louis really didn’t know which doll it was, but it had brown hair and was raised high enough so Marcel could see it.

“She’s beautiful, Kristen.” Marcel answered before asking, “Is that a new dress?”

Kristen shook her head. “No, sir. I’ve had it for a while. But she hasn’t worn it in a long time.” Kristen told Marcel, who leaned on the counter to see the doll and her clothes better.

“What’s her name?” He asked.

“Vanessa.” Kristen told Marcel, smiling widely.

“Did you name her?” Marcel asked, shifting on his feet.

“No, she came with that name. Can you help me put her boots on? I can’t get them on all the way.” Kristen asked. Louis could hear the puppy dog pout in her small voice.

Louis watched as his daughter handed Marcel the doll and the young man began working on the shoes so they would be on properly. From Louis’s own experience with the doll, he knew that putting the damn thing’s shoes on was harder than it looked. There was no chance in heaven or hell that his little girl had enough muscle to put those shoes on the doll by herself. Louis even had trouble putting the damn shoes on the doll. But Marcel seemed to have done it and made it seem easy. Marcel handed the doll back to Kristen. “How’s that?” He asked.

“Perfect!!” Kristen exclaimed. “Do you think I should put her jacket on her?” Kristen asked.

Louis heard Marcel chuckle. “It’s not cold outside.” He told Kristen.

Louis heard his daughter sigh. “I know, Mister Marcel, but Vanessa gets cold sometimes. I think she needs one.” Louis say Kristen’s head disappear behind the counter before popping back up again. “Which one? Blue or purple or green?” She asked.

Louis saw Marcel bring his finger up to his lips so it would look like he was seriously thinking. “I think the green would look amazing on her.”

Kristen nodded. “I was thinking that as well, and it matches your eyes, Mister Marcel!” Kristen said, giggling. “Thanks, Mister Marcel!”

Marcel told Kristen a quiet ‘you’re welcome’ before turning away. Louis moved his attention to the shelves so he wouldn’t be caught staring at the younger man. He moved a few jars of ketchup and mustard and relish to the front of the shelves. From the corner of his eye, he saw Marcel scoop up a small shopping basket before moving toward a different aisle.

Louis was heading back to the register when Marcel saw him. “Good morning.” Louis greeted.

“Hi.” Was all Marcel said as he pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I just have to pick up a few things.” He quietly told Louis.

Louis nodded. “Okay, I moved some things around, so if you can’t find something, let me know and I’ll help.” He told the younger man.

Marcel nodded and continued down the aisles. As Louis stepped behind the register, he glanced down at the TV where the security cameras showed what was being caught on camera. He saw that his son was still at the same spot while a boat was slowly docking.

“What do you think, daddy?” Kristen asked him as she shoved her doll up and tugged on Louis’s pants leg.

Louis looked down and smiled. “It’s beautiful, baby girl.” He told her as he squatted down to look at the doll better and so he was right next to her. “And the coat is beautiful.” He complemented. “Vanessa gets cold sometimes, doesn’t she?” Louis asked.

Kristen nodded and looked down at her doll. “Yeah, but right now she wants to go swinging, so I’ll have to change her.” She told Louis, a serious look on her face. It took everything in Louis to not laugh.

“Sounds like a good idea. Maybe we should go to the park later? If you want to swing as well.” He offered.

Kristen shook her head and looked up at Louis. “No, daddy. I don’t wanna swing, Vanessa does. And it’s all pretend anyways, daddy.” She told him, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Oh.” Louis chuckled. “Alrighty then.” He smiled and stood again.  _Well, we aren’t going to the park._  He thought to himself.

Louis looked back at Kristen and she was just lost in her own little world, redressing her doll again. Louis checked on the TV once again to see Josh on the monitor as a teenager walked into the store, wearing nothing but board shorts. He handed Louis a wad of cash. “For the pump at the dock.” Was all the teen said before dashing out again.

Louis rang up and reset the pump as Marcel walked up to the register. The younger man had the same items as he always did, just some sunscreen was added. When Marcel peeked over the counter and saw Kristen, Louis saw a change in his eyes. “Did you find everything that you needed?” Louis asked.

Marcel nodded. “Yes, thank you.” He quietly answered.

“My favorite Dickens novel is  _Great Expectations_.” Louis told Marcel as he began to put all of Marcel’s things into bags. “Which one is your favorite?” He asked, trying his best to sound friendly.

Instead of answering right away, Marcel seemed startled by Louis’s attempts of being friendly and actually remembered that he liked Dickens. “ _A Tale of Two Cities_.” Marcel finally answered.

“I like that one as well.” Louis smiled up at Marcel. “It’s kind of sad, but it’s really, really good.” He agreed.

Marcel nodded. “Yeah... That’s why I like it.” He explained.

Since Louis knew that Marcel was walking, he made sure to double bag the groceries so they wouldn’t spill or anything. “I figured that since you and my daughter already know each other, I might as well introduce myself.” He told Marcel, smiling over at him. “I’m Louis, Louis Tomlinson.”

“His name is Mister Marcel!” Kristen told Louis from behind her father. “But you already know that because I told you, remember?” She asked, looking up at her father as he turned back some to look at the little girl. When Louis looked back at Marcel, he was smiling and handed Louis the money that he owed.

“Just Marcel is fine.” He quietly told Louis, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcel.” Louis honestly told him as he tapped some buttons on the register, which opened up with a ‘ding’. “I take it that you live around here?” He asked, putting the money in the register and counting out the change.

Marcel never answered, instead, when Louis looked up, Marcel’s eyes were wide in fright and looking at the monitor. Louis furrowed his eyebrows and looked behind him to see what Marcel was looking at. Josh was in the water, fully clothed and his arms were flailing in panic. Louis felt his throat suddenly close and he moved on instinct, rushing out from behind the counter and running as fast as he possibly could so he could get out to his son. He ran through the store and the store room, knocking some random things down on his way, but those things didn’t matter. His son was  _drowning_. He wasn’t going to slow down to see what he knocked over or pick it up. That could wait, Josh couldn’t.

Louis flung the backdoor open, adrenaline surging through his system as he hurdled a row of bushes so he could get to the dock and his son quicker. Louis hit the dock at full speed and dove into the water from the dock. As he dove from the dock into the water, he could still see his little boy thrashing around and chocking on water.

Louis’s heart slammed against his rib cage as he sailed through the air, hitting the water a few feet away from his son. The water wasn’t too deep, maybe six feet or so, and as he touched the soft, unsettled mud of the bottom, he sank up to his shins. Louis fought his way to the surface, feeling the strain in his arms as he reached for Josh.

“I’ve got you! I’ve got you!” He shouted, trying to calm his son down. But Josh was struggling and coughing, unable to catch his breath, and Louis fought to control him as he pulled the young boy into shallow water. Then, with an enormous heave, Louis carried Josh up onto the grassy bank. Louis’s mind was racing on what to do. CPR? Stomach pumping? Assisted breathing? Louis tried to lay Josh down so he could do something, anything, but Josh kept resisting and flailing his arms around and coughing up a storm so he could try and get the water out of his lungs. Although Louis could still feel the panic in his system, he had enough presence of mind to know that it probably meant that Josh was going to be okay.

Louis didn’t know how long it took, maybe a few second but it felt longer, until Josh finally gave a rattling cough and emitted a spray of water, and for the first time was able to catch his breath. He inhaled sharply and coughed again, although it settled into something that sounded more like he was clearing his throat. Josh then drew in a few long breaths, still panic-stricken, and only then did the boy seem to realize what had just happened to him.

Josh reached up for Louis to hold him and Louis did. He folded his son tightly into his arms as Josh began to cry. Josh’s shoulders began to shake and Louis felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what might have happened. What would have happened if he hadn’t noticed Marcel staring at the monitor? What if another minute passed?  The answers to those questions had Louis shaking and trembling just as bad as his son.

In time, Josh’s cries began to slow down and he uttered the first words since his daddy pulled him out of the water. “I’m so sorry, daddy.” He choked out, repeating his words over and over again.

“I’m sorry too.” Louis whispered. Louis held onto his son, scared that if he let go, time would turn back and the outcome of this would be different.

When Louis was finally able to loosen his hold on Josh, Louis found himself gazing at the crowd that formed behind the store. Niall was there, as were the customers who’d been eating. Another pair of customers had their necks craned, probably just arrived and didn’t know exactly what was going on. And of course, Kristen was there. Louis suddenly felt as if he was a horrible parent again because he saw that his little girl was crying and afraid and that Kristen needed him as well, even though she was nestled safely in Marcel’s arms.

 

~.~

 

It wasn’t until both Josh and Louis were changed into some dry clothes that Louis was able to find out what had happened. Niall had cooked both kids’ hamburgers and fries, and they were all sitting at a table in the grill area, though neither of them showed any interest in eating.

“My fishing line got caught on the boat as it was pulling out, and I didn’t want to lose my fishing rod. I thought that the line would snap right away but it pulled me in instead and I swallowed a bunch of eater. Then I couldn’t breathe and it felt like something was holding me down.” Josh hesitantly told his father. “I think I dropped my rod in the river.” Josh told his father.

Kristen was sitting beside Josh. Her eyes were still red and puffy. She had asked Marcel to stay for a while, and the man did. He stayed by Kristen’s side, holding her hand every now and then.

“It’s okay. I’ll just head out there in a bit and look for it.” Louis told Josh before getting a drink of his tea. “If I can’t find it, I’ll just buy you a new one. But next time, please just let go. I can get a new fishing rod, I can’t get a new Josh.” He told his son as he leaned over to place a kiss on Josh’s head.

Josh sniffled and nodded. “I’m really sorry, daddy...” He apologized again.

“It was an accident.” Louis assured his son.

“But now you won’t let me go fishing…” Josh whispered, moving a fry around.

_And risk losing you again? Not a chance._  Louis thought. “We’ll talk about it later.” Louis told Josh instead of what he was thinking.

“What if I promised to let go next time?” Josh asked.

Louis sighed and looked up at his son. “I said that we’ll talk about it later, bud.” He promised. “Now you need to eat, both of you.” Louis told both of his kids.

“I’m not hungry.” Josh whispered.

Louis sighed. “I know, but its lunch time, you need to eat.” He told his kids.

Josh reached for a French fry and took a small bite, Kristen doing the same. At the table, Kristen almost always mimicked what Josh did. It drove Josh crazy, but he hadn’t seemed to have the energy to protest at the moment. Louis turned to look at Marcel. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “Can I talk to you?” He nervously asked the young man who his daughter had befriended.

Marcel stood up from the table and Louis led Marcel away from the kids. When they were far enough away and was sure the kids couldn’t hear, he cleared his throat. “I want to thank you for what you did.” He thanked Marcel.

“I didn’t do anything.” Marcel quietly protested.

“Yes,” Louis said. “You did. Had you not been looking at the monitor, I wouldn’t have known what was happening, I might not have reached Josh in time.” Louis told Marcel, pausing for a moment. “And also, thank you for taking care of Kristen. She’s the sweetest thing in the world, but she’s sensitive. I’m glad you didn’t leave her alone. Even when we and to go and change.” Louis thanked Marcel once more.

“I did what anyone would do.” Marcel calmly insisted. In the silence that followed, Marcel noticed how close they were standing and he took a half step back. “I should really get going.” He whispered.

“Wait!” Louis exclaimed as he walked to the refrigerated cases. “Do you like wine?” He asked.

Marcel shook his head. “Sometimes, but-“ He began as Louis turned and opened the case. He reached up and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay.

“Please,” he began “I want you to have it. It’s actually very good wine. I know you wouldn’t think you can get a good bottle of wine here, but I got this when I was in the army. I had a friend who was an amateur expert and he introduced me to wine. He picks out what I have in stock. Please, you’ll enjoy it.” He told Marcel as he handed the wine over to the younger man.

“You don’t need to do that.” Marcel whispered.

“It’s the least I can do.” Louis told Marcel, smiling widely. “As a way to say ‘thank you’.”

For the first time since they met, Marcel held Louis’s gaze. “Okay.” He whispered, finally.

After gathering his groceries and the bottle, Marcel left the store and Louis returned to the table with his kids. With a bit more cajoling, the two children finished their lunches and Louis went to the dock to retrieve the fishing pole. By the time he got back, Danielle was already at the register and was slipping her apron on.

Louis took the kids on a bike ride after his shift ended and then he took them to Wilmington to watch a movie and have some pizza. The sun was going down and they were tired when they got home, so they showered and put on their pajamas. Louis laid in bed between the two children for about an hour, just reading them stories, before finally turning off the lights.

 

~.~

 

In the living room, Louis turned on the television and flipped through the channels for a while, but he wasn’t in the mood to watch any television. Instead, he thought about Josh again. He knew that his son was safe upstairs, but he felt that same ripple of fear that he felt earlier that day. It was the same sense of failure. He was doing the best that he possibly could and no one could love their kids more than he did, but Louis couldn’t help but fear that just his love was enough for them.

Later, long after Josh and Kristen had fallen asleep, Louis went to the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He nursed it as he sat back on the couch. The memories of the day were playing in his mind, but this time, it wasn’t about Josh, it was about Kristen and how she clung to Marcel, her little face buried in Marcel’s neck.

The last time that Louis had seen his daughter do that to someone, other than himself and with Josh, was when Jamie-Lynn was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, forgive me? I love you.   
> Anyways, this is a version of Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks. I hope that you enjoy it. Vote, comment, fan, give advice, tell a friend, bookmark, subscribe, and have a happy Valentine’s Day! And happy birthday to whoever celebrates their birthday with me! And I really didn't read over this, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize, just tell me and I’ll fix it.


	5. A/N

Does someone want to edit my stories? I don't feel like editing and I know that there are some mistakes in my stories. I would really appreciate it if someone was nice enough to edit them.

If you want to edit them, please contact me before hand and stuff.

I want my stories to have the basic grammar, spelling and punctuation editing done, but I also need things edited that I messed up on, like names or using the wrong pronouns and verbs and stuff like that.

And if someone could, I would really appreciate a co-writer. :) 

Please help me, someone. :) I love you all! <3


	6. IMPORTANT OPPORTUNITY! PLEASE READ!

_ **IMPORTANT OPPORTUNITY! PLEASE READ!** _

 

I have an opportunity for whoever is wants it. I am in need of some editors and co-writers. I have two applications for whoever wants to fill them out.

Here they are:

Co-writer application:

<https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1Uu-dY0fMsTkEIHOT6hKDuQ3iqf4xz9kS1EsZCJ9Taug/viewform?usp=send_form> 

 

 

Editor application:

<https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1Efc73aUlKmQD6NY5XrJApDnt20AI6wZNzjGg0RUCVRk/viewform?usp=send_form> 

 

Please help me.


	7. ebooks-tree.com

I have some bad news. Someone, somehow, has posted four of my books on a website called ebooks-tree.com

I had seen someone post about books being posted on that site today, so I thought that I would check it out, not actually thinking that someone would post my stories on there without my permission.

The four stories that are posted on ebooks-tree.com without my permission are: Marrying You (Book 3) ON HOLD, Jack Frost, Forever and Always (Larry), and Accidental Daddy. 

I have emailed the site and asked to have those four taken down. 

I would like to know who has done this. If you know who did this, or you did it, please tell me.

And if you have an account with ebooks-tree.com, please look up my AO3 username, plas95, and see if I am credited at all for my stories and if my author's notes are in the chapters.

Hopefully, those books will be taken down off of the site. 

And I would advise anyone to go to ebooks-tree.com and look up your AO3 username and your Wattpad username and see if your books are on there or not.


	8. Author's note

I have a backup account. I also have posted a fic on that account that some people might not like it approve of. So, you don't have to read it if you don't want to or like it. But please subscribe to the backup account just in case something happens to this account. The account is

[justgivingitatry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justgivingitatry/pseuds/justgivingitatry)

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's the first chapter, sorry for the late update. Anyways, this is a version of Nicholas Sparks's Safe Haven. I am just simply changing some of the things, such as names and details, to fit this version. 
> 
> I will try and update at least once a week, it just really depends on my school and school work and stuff like that. Don't forget to comment, vote and fan. Love you all! :) <3


End file.
